


Constants and Variables.

by hellkeeper



Series: Constant and Variables. [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angry Boys come to an understanding, Angst, Hints of reincarnation, Hope, Humour, Indirect Sequel, M/M, Radiohead, Very Alternate Universe, angry boys clean stables, angry boys on vacation, re: how to disappear completely, totally not a shameless plug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 23:23:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2044143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellkeeper/pseuds/hellkeeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forced to share bunks, Eren gets pissed at Jean for singing (badly) in his sleep. Survey Corps get a day off and the two have to spend it together. And then they're forced to clean the stables at night. Oh,  how the world hates Eren and Jean, but not as much as they think. [Indirect sequel]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Constants and Variables.

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read my other one-shot, I'd strongly implore you do so now. It's very indirectly/directly related to this, so you'll probably understand this a bit better if you read it. And it's a coffee-shop AU, so what's not to love?
> 
> How to Disappear Completely:  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/1290208
> 
> Enjoy!

                Eren Jaeger wakes up to the sound of singing below him. He grumbles in annoyance and tries to fall back into deep sleep, but he slowly recognises the song.

                " _I'm not here/This isn't happening/I'm not here, I'm not here_ ,"

                "Holy fucking shit. Shut the _fuck_ up," groans the disgruntled boy, as he slams his head back into his pillow. The sleeping boy on the bottom bunk stops singing, and a groan ruptures from his mouth. Eren grunts and flips to the side facing the wall. "Why did the Captain make me bunk with this singing shit?" he asks himself.

                "Because," yawns a Jean Kirschstein, "he wants us to get along."

                Eren clicks his tongue, "How does he expect me to get along with a dick who sings like a horse in his sleep?"

                "Well I don't really care," shrugs Jean, tucking himself deeper into his hard mattress. "I'm not the one who's trying to kiss ass to the Cap'."

                "I'm not kissing ass."

                "Yes, you are."

                "No, I'm not."

                "Sure."

                Eren grunts. "Why are you so dick-ish?"

                "Well, why are you always so unpleasant?"

                The boy on the top bunk doesn't reply, choosing to swallow his big bite instead of spitting it on the other's face. Eren knows that these arguments lead to absolutely nowhere. He get's nothing out of it, Jean get's nothing out of it, and they both lose valuable sleep. And if there is one thing that Eren needs, it is sleep. No one likes an antsy sleep-deprived titan-human thing.

                "What song were you singing?" asks Eren.

                "Some old song I used to hear a lot as a kid," replies Jean, and then mumbles into his pillow, " _Probably._ "

                Eren doesn't question why Jean added 'probably' at the end, partially because he's tired, and partially because he couldn’t give a shit. But it bugged him that he somehow recognises the song. It bought up feelings he's never experienced before, tingled his spine in spots he never knew existed. And mind you, in this sad walled up world of theirs, music is a delicacy that few can afford.

                "I think your singing is getting to me, Kirschstein," mumbles Eren.

                "Well that must be a good sign that we're starting to get along! What good news for you and the Captain," Jean dramatically exasperates, raising his arms in the air to praise the gods.

                If he didn't turn into an eight-meter titan after biting his hand, Eren would be biting his hand to resist biting Kirschstein's ratchet mouth off.

 

 

                ~

 

 

                "Are you going to be finishing that piece of bread?" asks a Sasha Blouse, as she points to the brick-stale brown lump on Jean's plate. "Cos' if not, imma' just take -"

                "Touch and you die by fire torture," grumbles Jean, without giving her a single glance.

                Sasha mopes for a very brief second, before aiming her sights onto the bread roll on Mikasa's plate. "Hey... Are you gonna' eat -"

                The queen of the Survey Corps takes one big chomp on the bread-brick, decimating it into her stomach for digestion whilst still looking as graceful as ever. How she manages to stuff a bread roll down her pipe, while still looking ready to model, is undeniably a mystery on the same caliber as the origins if the titans. "Eat what?"

                "You really should get that eating problem sorted out," notes Connie, Sasha's aide and partner in crime. "Maybe it's some sort of bug in your stomach."

                "And maybe it's just having a healthy appetite," snaps Bottomless Stomach.

                Jean scoffs, "There is nothing special about eating everyone's food. It's a scarce resource. And we don't need some little girl with a big appetite to eat everything up."

                The _little girl_ kicks Jean in the shin, causing him to neigh in pain. Sasha aims her sights on Kirschstein with her fork "I am _no_ little girl."

                 A loud ruckus erupts, with Jean fighting off Sasha and Connie in a fork-off to the death. Shoes are thrown, forks stab the air and salvia is spat around. But the food stays intact. The food always stays intact.

                Eren Jaeger, Armin Arlert and Queen Mikasa Ackerman, sit away from the battlefield, hoping to eat their meal in peace.

                "Those guys have too much energy," grumbles Eren bitterly, while prodding his rice. “They should reserve their energy for training.” Titan boy loves his training and being solemn and kissing ass to the Cap. If his friends have time to have fun, that means they’re wasting it by not training hard enough.

                "They need a break, Eren,” notes the ever wise Armin, “In fact, we _all_ need a break. We’ve been training outside the walls for weeks straight. A day off is long overdue.”

                Titan-boy doesn't stop chewing. “Whatever."

                Jean, escaping his feud with the dynamic duo, overhears their conversation, gets out of his seat and saunters over with a smug to the punch look on his face. "Little Titan boy, here wants to train?" provokes Jean, with every syllable dripping with his trademarked dickness. "Let him. Not like it'll change anything. He'll still be weak. And at least I can have a day off without dealing with his constant ' _kill all de' titans'_ nonsense."

                Eren slams his fist on the wooden table. The entire lunch room falls silent. Connie and Sasha stop their stupid feud, Armin stops taking a bite out of his bread roll, while Mikasa continues to masticate softly on her rice. "Look here, _Kirschstein_. I'm training because I want to get stronger. I'm not going to waste my time sitting here, fucking with my spoons and forks. If you don't want to train, _Jean-bo_ , you should go back to your mother."

                Snickers fill the air, with everyone in the cafeteria having their eyes on the pair. Jean burns hot with anger and Eren looks like he's just glad his wit has finally appeared.

                "Look here, _Erenita_ ," seethes Jean, knowing that the other abhors the pet name. "Everyone hates the titans, but I'm sick of your spastic titan-killing extinction plot, alright. I can't handle your crazy."

                "What kind of fucking _crazy_ are you talking about?" barks Eren, getting up from his seat.

                "The type of fucking crazy –"

                The door slams open. Cool morning air weeps its way through, and a small figure silently saunters in. "Why in hell is my cafeteria so loud this morning? Did someone in my team finally decide to grow some balls?"

                Eren immediately ignores Jean and straightens the fuck up. "Sorry, sir! It won't happen again!"

                Levi Ackerman, leading solider of the Survey Corps and humanity's strongest badass, scowls his trademark scowl and goes straight to the coffee. "Well at least we know Jaeger here hasn’t grown any balls yet,"

                "No, sir. Not yet!"

                The entire room stifles down their giggles, except Jean, who rolls his eyes at Eren's almost gut-ripping admiration for the short soldier. He could never understand why he admired Levi so much. Sure, he was a good soldier, one of the best in fact, but to follow his every instruction of blindly and without hesitation pissed Jean off. "Nothin' but a lapdog, I swear," mutters Jean.

                Eren hears nothing but unintelligible sounds from Jean's annoying mouth, and continues to stand at attention.

                "You can sit down now, Jaeger," sighs the Captain in his daily cup of coffee.

                "Yes, sir!" Eren takes his seat, posture straight and eyes forward.

                Jean gives up on his fight with Eren and sits back on his own seat with Sasha and Connie, knowing that the other boy has already defaulted to _'must-make-captain-see-me-good-yes-certainly-sir-anything-for-you-sir_ ' mode.

                As if everyone could read the Captain's mind, or just because no one likes to speak in his presence, the whole room quiets.

                "As you all know, the next expedition beyond the wall is the day after tomorrow. Ordinary supply run. No heroics, so I want at least half of you still alive. You know the plans, so stick to it." announces the Captain. The room dies still. No one sighs, because everyone's used to it.

                The Captain pauses and sips his coffee. He glares at the moping faces, poking their cold food like a stick to a dead corpse. "But, good news, guys. You have a day off tomorrow," the room immediately brightens into a thousand suns. "That means no practice, no one to wake your sorry assholes up early, no drills, no warm up and stretches. You have the entire day to yourself, so don’t spend it sleeping. You can sleep when you're dead."

                 A flurry of excited whispers churn the air. Everyone who graduated from Trainees to part of the Survey Corps, have been waiting for this moment to come. Electricity is in the air, as a bunch of teenagers are finally let loose for a day. The moment Captain Ackerman leaves the room, excited shouts ring loud. " _LETS FUCKING PARTY!_ "

                The door creaks open, "Your day off is _tomorrow."_ The captain shouts. "Meaning you bitch-hoes are already five minutes late for _today's_ training."

                Everyone scoffs down their food and race towards the stables. Eren, as usual, is the first to finish and the first to leave. Ever the eager beaver. Ever the keen bean. Jean doesn't understand why Eren can have so much drive to train. How he can pick himself up, while the world pushes him down. He spear heads against the world, fighting to the save the same world he's against. _Just let the suicidal idiot be_ , thinks Jean whenever his mind wanders towards Jaeger.

                "Jean, are you coming?" asks Armin.

                Jean snaps out from his thoughts, "Yeah," he says as he runs out towards the hopeless sunrise.

 

 

                ~

                                                                                                                            

 

                By the afternoon, the Survey Corps have completed their 3DMG drills, depth cutting trials and gas conservation techniques. They lead their horses home with an eagerness not felt for a long time. Jean lags behind, watching the sunset on the walled horizon. He plans on what he's going to do tomorrow. He thinks hard. He strains, in fact, to think of some bustling activity to spend the day doing. But nothing comes to mind. Nothing but the walls.

                "Is something bothering you?" asks Armin.

                Jean shakes his head, "It's stupid, don't worry."

                "Well I'm used to stupid, so talk about it," urges the blond bob-cut.

                Jean isn't one to ignore Armin's obvious attempts to get him talking more, but he also isn't one to talk his feelings. So, Jean tries to segue his way out like he's always done, "What are you planning on doing tomorrow?"

                A deep sigh whispers out of Armin. "Probably just going to go around town. Go around and eat. You know…normal stuff."

                _Normal stuff_.

                "Sounds good," says Jean, with a pang of jealously. "With Mikasa and Eren?"

                "Yeap'," replies Armin looking towards the sky. "I think it'll be good for them, after all that has happened. Something to tether us to the ground, so we don’t end up losing our sense of enjoyment."

                Jean hums in agreement. "That does sound good."

                Silence falls between the pair, as Armin waits for a good time to ask. "You know you can join us tomorrow."

                "What? Why would I?" exasperates Jean with his eyes furrowed deep.

                "Well, what else have you got planned? Spending it –"

                "Armin! Get your blonde asshole over here!" hollers Eren at the front of the pack. Jean locks eyes with the boy, scowls and looks away.

                "Coming!" shouts Armin, before putting his attention back at Jean. "Think about it, okay?"

                "Yeah, whatever," mutters Jean, mood spoilt like milk left out in the sun. He watches the shadow of Armin and his horse creep up to the front, while his own shadow falls lengths behind. Routine becomes habit, and habits become rotten. Jean routinely felt left out, so he compensated it by being a jerk. It then became a habit to become a jerk to feel included. And now he's just rotten and bitter that he was left out from the start. Why should Jean feel alone? He looks to the front, sees green hoods paired up, Ymir and Christa, Reiner and Bertholdt, Connie and Sasha, Eren, Mikasa and Armin. And then there's Jean, trailing behind with a forgotten ghost.

                Jean isn't sad about living in this world. He's angry at the world he's living in.

 

 

                ~

 

 

 

                "…So I asked Jean to come along tomorrow –"

                "No," snaps Eren, taking a chunk out of his skinny meat loaf. "Why would you do that?"

                "Because… I don’t think he's got anyone to spend it with."

                "So?"

                Mikasa slaps Eren on the back. "Don't be rude Eren. Just let him join us. There's plenty of room in our party of three."

                "You just don't understand, Mikasa," grunts Eren, sulking deeper and deeper into his dinner. "If he's coming, then I'm not going. I'll be at the training grounds."

                The Queen grabs Eren's button nose with a tight pincer grip. "You _will_ join us. And it _will_ be fun."

                Tears well up in the poor boy's eyes. "Ow, Ow. Yes-okay-fine-fucking-YES!"

                Mikasa releases her pinch and Eren rubs his nose, a teardrop streaming down his face.

                "You're fucking evil," mumbles the now red-nosed boy, while the only female of the trio remains passive and expressionless as a fur-coat model on a runway.

                "Thanks, Eren," beams Armin brighter than his hair colour, "I'll tell him now."

                Eren watches the blonde head over to the table where Jean's sitting and animatedly explaining the itinerary for tomorrow. They lock eyes for a split second, before Jean slowly averts his attention back to bob-cut blonde.

                "Why is Armin doing this? In fact why are _you_ doing this?" exasperates Eren. "Both of you know that we don’t get along well."

                "You two have calmed down recently," reasons Mikasa. "Well, at least the fights aren't physical anymore."

                "Yeah, that's because we're sick of throwing punches," grumbles Eren, nibbling on his lukewarm vegetables.

                "That means you two can start to get along,"

                "Sick of _fighting_ , not sick of _hating_ each other,"

                "You don't actually hate Jean, do you?" asks Mikasa.

                "I-" Eren stops and thinks. Ever since he met Jean, he's been nothing but a prick, nothing but some asshole that tries to act all cool but really is in fact a coward on his sleeves. He's a good solider, even Eren has to admit that. He's well rounded, follows orders and doesn't skimp out of training. But does he hate Jean? "Yes. Yes, I think I do hate him."

                "Why?" asks Mikasa, stone black eyes staring into Eren's core.

                "Because he sings when he sleeps, and it's fucking annoying." The Queen's face does not move an inch, but Eren can tell it turns deadpan. "He's a horrible singer."

                Armin returns, "He said yes!"

                " _Yay_ ," cheers Eren monotonously. "I seriously don’t get why you're doing this to me."

                "We're not doing this to you," replies Armin. "We're doing it for _him_."

               

                ~

               

                On the morning of this hallowed day off, Jean Kirschstein mumbles in his sleep. Mumbles a song that resonates and creeps into Eren's dreams. Eren sees blue skies and even bluer oceans. He sees mountains spewing fire and frozen lakes. He sees glass buildings racing to the moon and night lights that pepper streets with colour. There are no walls, no titans, no fear of dying the next day. Eren didn't feel like Atlas, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He felt like he was just _part_ of the world. But most of all, he's floating on a boat, in a river pooled with stars, heading towards the moon and guided by gravity.

                "God dammit, Kirschstein," growls Eren half dazed. "Even Connie's snoring would be better."

                Jean, woken up again by Eren's complaints, ignores his comment and tries to fall back to sleep.

                For a better picture as to why the two are bunking together, Captain Levi wants to foster team work and group cohesion. So he bunks whoever he considers to be the weakest links in the group, to create what he calls ' _camaraderie'_. Or in other words, _those who bunk together, fight together_ , (in theory of course). Even Eren, who adores his Captain more than his own beautiful blue-green eyes, couldn't help but complain (very politely), about the new sleeping arrangements. And they're not the only ones. Ymir and Mikasa are bunking together, because of a series of unrelated incidents involving silent death glares, Connie and Reiner are paired because Connie took a joke way too far and Reiner's receding hairline took a hit, Armin and Bertholdt are bunking because apparently they're too shy to have a conversation for longer than five seconds, and Sasha and Christa are together because of a string of attempts at stealing food, while Christa staves half dead. In the end, this is just a sick ploy by the Captain to encourage team work and also satisfy his sick need to torture his underlings for shits and giggles.

                _"That there, that's not me/I go where I please/I walk through walls"_ , mumbles Eren, having had Jean's song burnt into this cranium. He thinks to himself what a bleak song this would be for a mother to sing to her kid. But then again, there isn't much music anymore. The only songs that have actually been remembered are ones commemorating the dead, or songs that remind them of what it felt like before the titans appeared.

                "You have a shit voice," teases Jean from the bottom bunk, "I'm sure that even I sang better than that when I was dead asleep."

                "How about you shut the fuck up," suggests Eren with a little less aggression than usual. This morning, Eren is just a little bothered at the dreams he's been having, and a whole lot more bothered at waking up to Jean's singing. "So, you're joining us today?"

                Jean pauses. The silence amplifies the ruckus from the other dorms. Excited soldiers on their day off bright and early. "Y-yeah. I am."

                Eren releases a drawn out sigh. "Okay."

 

~

 

                The four head out to their first destination, _Café Azealia,_ for an early breakfast filled with hearty meals and aromatic coffee.

                "Sasha says they have the best breakfast menus in our area," says Armin. "She's always got an eye on places with good food."

                "Yeah, sure," mumbles the unwilling to even function, Jean. "Listen to the girl who thinks with only her stomach. I bet anything that's food tastes good to her."

                The blonde bob-cut giggles. "Well lets hope I'm right, cause' I'm aching for some good food."

                Jean sneaks a peek behind him to see Eren and Mikasa engaging in small conversation. As the group left the dormitories, they naturally fell into pairs. Since Jean doesn't really talk to Mikasa, and Eren wouldn't stand walking beside him, Jean stuck with Armin, while Mikasa and Eren trailed behind. Jean thinks it's fine like this. Armin isn't all that much of a bad person to get along with. The two have fought together the most, being group up together in expeditions, so they have that war-buddy vibe going on. They can talk about most things with relative ease, and they can sit in mutual silence without it being awkward. _It's great_ , thinks Jean. It's absolutely great.

                "We're here!" shouts Armin, pointing towards a homey cottage. " _Café Azealia_. It looks good already!"

                Eren and Mikasa eventually catch up. Jean can't help but stare at Eren, somewhat captivated by him in clothes that aren't his uniform or sleepwear. Of course, Titan-Boy catches his eye and frowns at him, before looking away.

                They enter, sit down in a comfortable booth and order their meals. Idle chitchat sustains their time, mostly instagated by Armin, because seriously, who else in the group is capable in social situations like this? Once their meals arrive, they eat in silence. The food was really as good as Sasha said, much to relief of Armin. Jean subtly watches Eren eat, as he always does from afar. Titan Boy isn't the most elegant of eaters out there, but he likes it. He likes the way Eren's adam apple bobs up and down, gliding smoothly down his neck. The way he chews his food slowly when it first enters his mouth, and then chomps down like an ungracious child. And the way he never finishes what's already in his mouth before he takes another bite. As simple as these motions are, they all felt characteristic of Eren. Almost as if, without them, Eren wouldn't be whole. Eren wouldn't be the _Eren_ of this world.

                "Jean sings in his sleep," Mikasa suddenly says midway through the silence.

                Jean blushes and stammers and stutters and sweats from his hands, "W-what?! I d-o not! Mikasa!"

                The Queen slips in the tiniest smirk. Mikasa doesn't have much of a social aptitude, so she compensates by suddenly saying something that's almost completely irrelevant, while at the same time, absolutely relevant. It's her way of starting a conversation. Well, at least that's what everyone thinks.

                "Is that true!?" asks Armin, brightening up at the prospect of someone who can make music within his friends. The poor blonde is a music lover in a music-less world.

                "N-no! I don't sing. I can't. Really," stammers Jean.

                "He's right, you know," interjects a smirking Eren Jaeger, "He really can't sing."

                "But it's true, then. You do sing in your sleep," perks Armin.

                "N-no. It's not –"

                "He sings a lullaby his mommy used to sing to him," teases Titan Boy, feeling like he's finally gotten a good hold on Jean's dignity

                "My mother did not sing it!" defends Jean at the immediate mention of his mother.

                "It's not even a nice song, anyway," adds Eren, ignoring Jean's outburst.

                "Wow, your mum can sing too?" asks Armin, brightening up brighter than the sun in the peak of summer. "That's amazing. You two have to sing it to us one day."

                Jean tries to make Armin understand that there will be no singing, there will be no lovely mother and son duet, but alas, the blonde bob-cut never ceases. Eren finds absolute enjoyment out of it, and Mikasa is just glad she contributed to the social gathering in some way.

                The four finish their meals and drink their very, very, very nice coffee. So nice that they even get a bag of coffee beans for the Captain. As they headed towards their next destination, they once again walked in pairs, but this time, Armin is with Eren and Jean pairs with Mikasa. Of course, Jean's partner doesn't really talk much, but it was still good company. He felt at ease floating in the silence. It's almost as if he's forgotten about the ghost that follows his every footstep.

                They spend their time walking around, visiting more cafés and restaurants Sasha recommended and shopping for different mundane items that they know will not serve any purpose outside these walls. They finally felt normal for once and Jean felt invigorated.

               

~

 

                Night falls and the four return to the dorms for mandatory dinner. At first, Jean sits alone on a table, but then Armin drags Mikasa and a reluctant Eren to sit with him. Jean doesn't mind the company. It's just different. He's used to be eating alone. He's used to being alone. Alone with the ghost on his shoulders. The Captain walks in with a small bounce to his walk, sipping on his very, very, very nice coffee.

                "I hope you enjoyed today," mumbles the Captain in his cup. "We have an expedition tomorrow. More supply drop offs beyond the wall, you know the drill. Now don't be late."

                And almost as if the room became flooded, everyone fell back into their proper places. Backs slumped, muscles aching, bruises reforming. They all know that they have lives to get back to, a world to save, a world to shoulder. So no one complained. No one even sighed or batted an eye.

                "Eren, Jean. You have stable duties now," announces the Captain as he takes his leave.

                "Yes, sir!" the two shout. Eren scowls and Jean grunts. Armin takes heed of this and chuckles slightly to himself.

                "Why do I get stuck with the chores?" groans Jean, prodding his food for good measure.

                "Suck it up, Kirschstein," responds Eren. "Let's just get this over with. I'm tired of hanging around you all day."

                "Yeah, yeah. Same to you, jackass."

 

                They finish their dinner within a minute, and head to the stables in silence. The cool night breeze embraces Jean like his mother used to. Jean loves the cold. He adores the white snow in winter, even if it kills the crops. In front, he sees Eren though, rubbing his arms and wishing he brought something thicker to wear. Almost instinctually, Jean thinks of Mikasa's red scarf. He imagines it on Eren, wrap around his neck soft as feathers, and he doesn't know why.

                At the stables, they feed the horses and begin to rake the floor.  Out of all the mundane cleaning chores the Captain tells them to do, cleaning the stables isn't the worst. Sure, it stinks like horseshit, your shirt's collar gets nibbled on and you get hay stuck in crevices you never knew existed. But in a world where all you do is try and save it, dealing with horseshit may just be the dessert of the whole course.

                "Why are you smiling?" asks Eren, taking a break with his rake perched on his shoulders.

                "I'm not," mumbles Jean, half-expecting some stupid remark about stable cleaning and horse faces.

                "You are," pushes the other boy, spinning his rake around like a spear. "I mean, it's not a very big smile, and it's not nice either," Jean grunts. "Horse's don’t look nice when they smile."

 _And there it is_ , thinks Jean. Usually, Jean would snap back with a very witty (not very witty) remark about how Eren looks like a deranged doll in his titan form, but Jean wants to ride on this 'uppity' feeling he's gotten from his day off so he swallows his pride and his insult. The other boy watches uppity-Jean rake hay with a strange fervor.

                "You really like doing this, huh?" says Eren trying not to be condescending.

                "I don’t _like_ doing it," replies Jean, eyes fixated on the next straw of hay. "But anything beats sniffing our asses wondering when the next time you'll have to fight a titan."

                "Is that so?" drags Eren. "Well then, you can finish up."

                "No way, Titan-Boy," refutes Jean. But it's too late. The rake is on the ground and Eren plops himself down a soft pile of hay that Jean had just raked.  "You're a jackass."

                "Whatever," shrugs Eren as he shuts his eyes, falling deeper in the downy pillow of hay. "You owe me for today."

                Jean scoffs and saunters over to the lazed Eren. "And what exactly did you do for me?"

                "I…" Eren pauses to hum. "I paid for your coffee."

                "Because Armin forced you to," Jean stated matter-of-factly.

                "I let you talk to Mikasa."

                "I don’t need your permission."

                "I didn't laugh at you when you bought that ugly shirt."

                "Hey!" barked Jean. "Mikasa and Armin both said it looked good on me."

                "Of course _they_ would,"

                Jean quirks his eyebrows. "What's that meant to mean?"

                The other boy sighs, "Nothing."

                "Whatever," grunts Jean, as he continues raking the stables. He wants to end this day in peace, so he will not get into any more arguments with Eren. Unless the other starts it, then all is game.

                Jean thinks to himself what a day it was. He never expected to have a decent time with the three, especially with Eren. Titan-Boy was unusually mild today, rarely poking fun, or taunting Jean the entire day. It was weird, but Jean didn't say a thing and went with it. The entire day, Jean had been walking with an extra little bounce in his step, like the wings of his uniforms actually meant something other than a death wish. It'd been a while since Jean felt that light-weight. After all that had happen, everyone has been walking with heavy steps.  And at least this day made you feel weightless.

                " _That there/That's not me/I go where I please/I float down the Liffey,_ "

                Eren's eyes creep open. He sees Jean, raking the tiniest straws of hay clean to perfection, singing to himself as soft as hay. "What's a 'Liffey'?"

                Jean, fully thinking that Eren had fallen asleep, blushes slightly out of embarrassment of being caught singing. _Again_. While he's conscious too. "A-a river."

                "Not any river I've heard of."

                "It was a huge river from before the titans took over," says Jean. "A city was built around it. Had all sorts of people living there," continuing on without much thought.

                "Tell me more," mumbles Eren and he shuts his eyes.

                 "When it's dark, the streets would light up like stars in the ocean of night, through the window you can see lanterns on the boats gliding down the river. A stream of stars and skies in a river of filled with time."

                "Is that so?" asks Eren softly.

                "A-are you falling asleep on me?" accuses Jean, peering over to the very relaxed titan-shifter in a pile of hay.

                "No, no," replies Eren as he shakes his head with his eyes still shut. "I'm just imagining what the Liffey would look like."

                Jean wonders to himself whether Eren is being a prick, or something else.

                Eren's eyes snap open. "Can we ride the boats? "

                "W-what?"

                "The boats. Can we, you know, sit on em'?" inquires Eren with a completely impassive face.

                "Y-yeah, sure. I guess you can…" replies Jean, still debating whether Eren is genuinely interested or not.

                "Always wanted to sit on a boat at night, stare up at into the sky and sail away from the world," sighs Eren, shutting his eyes again. "The Liffey sounds like a nice place to visit."

                Jean hums in agreement, choosing to stay silent in this odd moment that he's having with the boy. In all fairness, they don't argue all the time. Most see Eren and Jean as two people who butt heads with each other constantly. They see the two as a mutual relationship based on bickering banter, jabs at each other's ego and slipping in snide comments whenever possible. But that's not all true. Sure, they have times where they disagree, times where their hot headedness gets the better of both of them, but they get along. Not in a chummy sort of way, and more a 'we don't fight _all_ the time' kind of way.

                As Jean finishes the chores, Eren lays in his pile of downy hay and hums to the tune of Jean's song. Eren's humming isn't clear, it's pitchy and slightly off tune. But Jean thinks it sounds true. He thinks it sounds true to the actual song. "You really like that song, don't you?" teases Jean.

                The humming abruptly stops and Eren grunts. "I don't _like_ the song. It's just stuck in my head. There's a difference, asshole." The comment about Jean being the hole of an ass felt weak. Their little pet name calling, (ie. Asshole, dickface, shithead, dickfucker, little fuck, shit fuck, Jean-bo, Erenita,) have lost their harshness over time, becoming almost like reflexes they don’t even take notice of.

"Of all songs to listen to as a kid, you chose the one with the most depressing lines. You must of have been one fucked up kid. In fact, you still are."

                "Shut up, dickshit. You're as fucked up as me," barks Jean ('dickshit' is another pet name). Jean thinks hard. The song that's always been there, carved onto the walls of his mind. Ever since he was a kid, whenever he'd sit in silence and stare up into the sky, he'd hear it fill the up the quietness.  He'd hear the tune first and then his mouth would move by itself like it was possessed. Now that he thought about it, hisis mother liked to sing, but he's sure she would never sing a song like this. She sung lullaby's about the stars and moon, not about an existential crisis. So where did that song come from? "I don't really remember. It's just a song that was there in my childhood. Some people remember memories from really early on, when they were infants. But all I remember is that tune."

                Eren moves over on his pile of hay, leaving more than enough room for another person to lie down with him. Whether it's intentional, Jean has no clue. "For some stupid reason, I feel like I've heard the song before too. Maybe as a kid. It's been pissing me off lately. I try and think back as a far as I can. But there's nothing. No event in my life that even remotely relates to the song."

                "Maybe me singing while you're sleeping rewired your brain," Jean suggests sardonically.

                "Fuck you," says Eren through instinct. "I'm just saying, it's like that for me too. Feels like the song has always been there with me, attached to me like my name at birth."

                "Yeah."

                The conversation pauses. Eren starts humming. He starts feeling weightless, shooting in every direction in every dimension. Jean sets down on the floor opposite Eren's hay pile, stretches his legs and leans back. He listens to Eren's humming and he's there. He's on a boat, floating down the Liffey at night. He stares up at the sky, sees the sun and the moon and the stars. The entire cosmos in an ocean of black.

                "Thanks for today," mumbles Jean softly.

                "For what?" inquires Eren.

                "F-for letting me come today," replies Jean short of a whisper. His cheeks start rushing with embarrassment.

                "It was Armin's idea. Thank him. I didn't plan shit."

                "Yeah, but-"

                "Mikasa forced me to let you come."

                "For fucks sake, just accept my fucking thanks," shouts a frustrated Jean, patience almost depleted trying to deal with titan-boy. "You didn't have to come, but you did. And – you know, it was nice. Today was fun." Eren slips a small smile that goes unnoticed. "It's been a while since I really hung around people. I guess I missed it, since… since you know-"

                "Marco?"

                Something inside Jean's chest clutches into a dull ache. "Yeah."

                Ever since Marco Bott died, Jean sits alone when he eats. Barely talks to anyone outside of training. Keeps to himself during breaks. At first, he did it because he wanted some space to process the loss. But after a while, it just became a habit. To Jean, being by himself became routine. He'd sit in the corner of the cafeteria and eat his lunch with a ghost on his shoulder.

                "Do you still think about him?" asks Eren, trying his hardest to not sound insincere.

                "Sometimes. Whenever there's an empty moment, my mind wonders over to what he'd be doing right now, or how tall he'd grown. It's not like I cry about it anymore." Jean stares into his lap and pinches his fingers "B-but it's hard to fill up a hole that big with only time."

                Eren props himself up from his pile of hay. "You know, I never – um, I never really told you this, but… I'm sorry about what happened to him. I know you two were close."

                Jean scoffs. "It's fine, Eren. It was a long time ago. We all move on, right?"

                "Y-yeah, we all do."

                Eren twiddles his fingers because he just not that good at handling situations like these, and Jean of course, notices. "But, thanks."

                The other boy flushes in embarrassment, not used to Jean being so gratuitous, before he flops back down. "Can we stay here for a while? I don't wanna' go back in just yet."

                "Sure," replies Jean, as he leans backs.

                Eren hums softly to himself, picturing the Liffey, while Jean watches Eren breathe. Chest rising. Chest falling. It's slow and calm and paced. Like he's savouring each breath as if it's his last. It's funny, in the midst's of all this titan drama, people forget what a human really is. They concentrate on how each individual is special, how person has their own thoughts and feelings and strengths. But they forget to see that people are just flesh tied together by skin. They forget that it takes only a few organs keep humans breathing and pumping blood. They forget that humans are just lumps matter in an infinite unit of space. Out of all the matter in the universe, Jean had to amass and grow on this shitty world. A world run by giant man eating titans. A world where Death is a common household name.  _Why me?_ , questions Jean, _Why this fucking world?_ Why not a world where Jean lives happily, has two kids and a wife? Why did God, or whoever the fuck runs this shit, make him, of all people, live in _this_   fucked up world?

                "You ever wonder why we're here?" openly asks Jean, half-expected no answer. "I mean, why us? Why are we ones that have to fight the titans? Why do _we_ have to die for the gears of this world to turn?" Eren stops humming. "You ever wonder if there are other worlds out there? My mother used to tell me a story about how there are an infinite number of universes. Infinite versions of us, infinite versions of the world."

                "It's kinda' hard to believe," scoffs Eren.

                Jean hums in agreement and laughs softly to himself. "She told me there was a world where titans never existed. There was no wall, no Survey Corps. All the people ever wanted to do was to get a job, earn money, raise a family and die old. In that world, father was still alive and we'd go out to the park in the afternoon and play ball. She told me to be happy that in some universe, we'll always be that happy family."

                "Probably just said that to make you feel better."

                "And it didn't make me happy, or relieved, or even hopeful. It just made me fucking angry. Like, why is it me and mother that has to live in this shitty world. Why is it that I have to live with a dead father, and another me from another world gets him alive? Why are we stuck with the titans, and they stuck with their shitty peaceful lives? Just makes me wish that I could swap places with _that_ Jean. See how he'd like to live in this shit infested world."

                "It's just a story. There's no use thinking about stupid shit you can't change. Whatever fucker that is up in the sky that's making all these rules won't listen to one idiot's pleas. You're stuck here, Jean. We both are. We just gotta’ accept it."

                The blonde boy snorts. "You really don't hold back?"

                Eren scrunches his eyebrows together. "What's that meant to mean, asshole?"

                Jean laughs louder, frustrating Eren even more. "Don't worry, dumbass. It's nothing bad. It's probably the only thing I don't hate about you"

                "What is?" inquires Eren as he sits himself up.

                "You don't lie," replies Jean, scratching the calluses on his palm until they flake. "You tell shit to people upfront, even though it's insensitive, or completely inappropriate. Sometimes it pisses me off, but a lot of the times I-uhh I think it’s pretty great."

                "Is that so?" hums Eren, smiling smugly to himself.

                Jean won't tell Eren this, but he doesn't really just think the other's honesty is _‘great_ ’. Too bad the poor boy isn’t eloquent when he needs to be, but it’s safe to say that Jean in fact admires Eren’s blatant disregard for reading social cues. He fucking loves watching the titan shifter tell off his comrades for being cowards, his superiors for being stupid (except Captain Levi, because that’s just stupid) and Jean for being a well-rounded dickshit. But also because Jean wishes he could do the same. Eren’s a brutally honest person. There has been many times where Eren flat out tells Christa, a girl sweeter than life’s teardrops, that she’s being stupid for running away from a tiny 5-metre class titan. And no one hates him for being so brash, because at the same time he’s sincere. You know that he has no vendetta against you, so his scolding isn’t to be taken personally. His honesty shows that he’s got nothing to hide. It’s probably why so many people trust him. It’s why Jean trusts him. _Probably_.

                “Sing for me, Horse-face,” commands Eren, staring full force into Jean’s gold eyes.

                “W-what?! Fuck off,” flusters Jean, avoiding Eren’s concrete gaze. There’s something about the colour blue-green that irks Jean. Something that twitches his hands into a balled fist and makes him either want to grab Eren by the waist, or punch him in the square in the face.

                “I’m serious,“ he looks very serious, “You sang when we were cleaning.”

                “You mean when _I_ was cleaning. You were laying in the exact same spot doing nothing," defends Jean.

                "And how does that change anything? You still sang," rebuts Eren, knowing full well that he's won this argument in the logic department. "And I want to hear the whole song. I only know like, three lines."

                "Well I'll write the lyrics down," reasons Jean, getting more flustered by the minute.

                "You're such a dork, Kirschstein. I'll just wait until tonight." chortles Eren, certain that the other boy will sing in his sleep again. He really doesn't really mind Jean's singing. In fact, he wants to know the full song, memorise the lyrics and the rhythm. He wants to recognise each change in pitch and tone. He wants the song to be as natural to him as his breathing.

                Jean shifts uncomfortably on the stone stable floor, wondering how much longer they would stay out here. There is a week-long expedition starting tomorrow. He wanted to rest up a bit. But then again, he probably wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. Jean looks over at Eren, relaxed and serene. _Probably excited to face the titans tomorrow_ , he thinks to himself. Jean wonders how fucking insignificant he is to the world, how little his existence impacts the universe. He's useless, a literal grain of sand lost in space. He can't even kill a fucking titan. And then he thinks of Eren, a fucking bright star. Eren can be seen in the skies of millions of planets, create life and destroy it. The literal shining beacon of hope for humanity.

                "Are you ready for tomorrow?" asks Eren, snapping Jean out of his wandering thoughts.

                "I guess," shrugs Jean. "Are you?"

                Eren pauses for a bit. Jean can sense the hesitation in his eyes and the way Eren bits the inside of his lips before answering. "Do I even have a choice?"

                Jean, taken aback by Eren's odd answer, asks: "What do you mean?"

                "I always have to be ready. I don’t have the choice of _not_ being ready. Everyone looks at me like they expect me to swoop in and save the day. That we'll win if we have the titan-shifter on our side. If I'm not ready, if I'm not ready to save the day, then humanity is fucked. Shit, it's not like I don’t want to be ready. I wanna' fucking kill every titan. But it's hard sometimes, having everyone look to you for help.

                "Before I became a titan shifter, I only fought for me, Mikasa and Armin. I trained hard to join the Survey Corps. I trained hard so I could kill titans. And if I failed, there'd only be Mikasa and Armin left to be disappointed in me. That's all that mattered. But now, the Commander, the Captain, Hanji -  everyone who knows about me, expects me to kill on instinct and move when commanded.  I want to do it. I'm fine with doing whatever they want me to do. But I just don’t know if I can. Every time I turn into a titan, I wonder if it'll be enough. I can't even control this power, and people trust me."

                Jean doesn't know what to say. He's never seen this side of Eren before, all this insecurity. He's always seen Eren as generic two-dimensional trope, the kid with the exclusive power to save the world. In the back of his mind, Jean had always believed Eren would probably be the one to eliminate the titans. 

                "You don’t have to say anything," notes Eren, shrugging the ill weight off his shoulders, "I just wanted to, you know, dump some shit I've been carrying in my chest. And you look like the type to want to be shitted on."

                "Fuck you," snaps Jean light heartedly. He chortles to himself, because he figures that this is the most peaceful his relationship with Eren has ever been. "You really think I'm the right person for you to be talking about this?"

                The other boy hums a non-committal response. "Probably."

                _Probably_.

                "What about Mikasa and Armin?" suggests Jean. "They seem better suited to being dumped shit on."

                "Nah, I don’t want to burden them with my inner turmoil."

                "But you don’t mind burdening me?"

                "No, not really," replies Eren as easily as the wind. "You're different."

                "How so?"

                "Because you're like me. Angry at the world. Everything you hold dear blown away in the wind, while you're left with facing Death on a sunny snow. Angry at the god in the sky for making us live in a world full of shit and fucking sadness. You know what it feels like to want to disappear from the world. Where everything just melts into moments passed. And I guess…In some sort of way, that makes me trust you."

                "T-trust me?" stammers Jean, controlling his fluster. _Eren Jaeger, complimenting me?_

                "It's not a compliment, dumbass," corrects Eren as though he's motherfucking clairvoyant. "It just means you're as fucked up as I am."

                "Geez, thanks asshole," mutters Jean and he rakes the hair on the back of his head.

                "Do you want to go back in?" asks Eren

                "Sure."

                As the two walk back to the dorms, Jean can't help but notice how familiar Eren seems to him now. Like he's known him for years and lifetimes and universes. They've never really talked for that long before, so Jean hasn't picked up on it until now. But he's sure of it. He's sure that Eren Jaeger is a constant in his life, and everything else is a variable. No matter where Jean is, no matter which world he lives in, whether his father is dead or not, whether Marco is dead or not, Eren will always be there. He'll be angry at the world with Jean, together fighting the logic that defines the universe.

                "Say, you know that happy world of yours that you dreamed up?"

                "The one with a happy family?"

                "Does it have the river Liffey?"

                "Of course."

                "Do you think I'd be in it?"

                "Yeah, there's a part of me that really thinks so."

                "Good," whispers Eren, just barely audible over the wind. Jean sees the back of Eren's head, but he knows the boy's smiling. "This wind feels really great, doesn't it?"

                Jean breathes in deep. He lets the cold air run through his lungs and fill his soul.

                "It feel's amazing."

 

 

                ~

 

 

                "Where is he?!" shouts a boy with dried blood dripping down his face. "Where the _fuck_ is he!?"

                He pushes past his comrades, the nurses, the corpses. He ignores the shouts from Squad Leader Hanji telling him to sit down. He ignores the pain in his shoulder, and the fact that he's missing half his left arm, patched up with a makeshift bandage. Someone's grabs his other, _whole_ , arm.

                It's Armin.          

                "Jean, don't move. You've lost a lot of blood – "

                "I don’t fucking care," exclaims Jean turning back. Armin gasps at his bloodshot eyes stretched wider than the moon. "Where the fuck is Eren?"

                "Jean, you really need to –"

                The boy with a stub on his left arm rushes off, frantically look at each body that lay on the floor. Living or dead, it didn't matter. He had to find him.

                He starts feeling light-headed, the pain dulls away and he hears this ringing sound. The room spins and his senses short circuit.

                  _Not now. Where is he? That fucker. That stupid mother fucking fucker. Eren, where -_

                Jean stumbles a few steps forward, before collapsing.

 

                Within the first week of the expedition, they were ambushed by a group of Aberrant titans on an open field. There were no trees, so the 3DMG's were useless. The commander managed to maneuver the entire squad into a small forest, where they finally fought back. Captain Levi refused to let Eren transform, saying at this stage, his powers were too unpredictable to use, and threatened to attract even more titans. The formation was decimated, as the group of Aberrants ravaged through the Survey Corps. Thirty percent died. The supplies were dumped overboard to get the carriages to move faster in their escape. The mission was a failure.

 

                When Jean comes to, he hears the soft mumbling of words he recognises.

                " _I'm not here/This isn't happening…_ "

                It's Eren, eyes shut and singing. He sits on a chair on the other side of the room. His head is bandaged, his arm is in a sling. His cuts are already healing. Jean releases a breath he's held onto for too long. He feels like Atlas, shrugging the Earth off his shoulders.

                "E-eren?" croaks Jean, as he turns to face to wall.

                Said boy, snaps up. "You're up"

                "Y-yeah,"

                Falls between the two like snow. Jean refuses to look at Eren, and Eren doesn't move from his spot on the other side of the room. Time passes in rivers of stars in the night. Jean stares into the wall. Eren watches Jean breathe.

                Jean speaks up first, "Why did you do it?"

                Eren hesitates, "Do what?"

                "Don't act like you don’t fucking know," seethes Jean. "You should have just left me there."

                "But I didn't."

                "I was good as dead, Eren, "says Jean gripping his bed sheets, "I lost my swords, my gear was busted. I lost a fucking arm, for fucks sake. I might as well have been dead."

                "That doesn't mean shit to me," responds Eren calmly. "You were still moving and breathing."

                Jean grits his teeth, trying to move his left hand, but only to be met with phantom pains. He lost his arm to an Aberrant, fell to the ground, damaged his gear and lost his swords. The pain was unbearable. He couldn’t even scream. He saw the Aberrant sprinting towards him. It's body mangled into contortionist shapes. He thought he was dead. As dead as his father, as dead as Marco. He'd never see his mother again. He'd never feel the wind on his face. And then Eren swoops in, chases off the Aberrant, only to be pulverised into a tree. But it gave the time for Levi  to eliminate the Aberrant before it ran off. He thought Eren was dead. Not even a titan-shifter would have survived it. He thought he'd lost the only constant in his life.

                Jean turns slowly around, sees Eren looking out the window, sitting there serenely, ethereal and absolutely alive. And then he starts sobbing, choking on his saliva, hot tears streaming hard down the sides of his face. He covers his eyes with what's left of his arm, and just cries. He just fucking cries.

                "J-Jean?" asks Eren in a whisper. The bedridden boy continues to sob.

                "I thought you were fucking dead," chokes Jean. "I thought that was it. That would be the last memory I would have of you, dead and minced on a fucking tree stump."

                Eren smiles to himself. "I won't die, Jean."

                "Bullshit," calls Jean.

                "Don't you trust me?"

                Jean sobs slowly die down. He sniffs his runny nose and whips the excess gunk on his face. He watches Eren watching him. And he realises that he'll always be there. No matter the cost, no matter the reason. Eren will be his constant to a universe full of variables.

                They spend the rest of the day not speaking to each other, but instead, basking in each other's mutual company. Eren sings Jean's song, lines perfectly memorised, pitches and tones perfectly sung.

                They imagine a world where they cruise down a river, staring into the same night sky. They point at a star on a tiny coordinate in all of space and time and create a map of the universe. In hopes that maybe one day, if they ever get lost, they can trace back to their pasts and presents and futures to find their constants once again.


	2. Epilogue.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're my constant.

            The street lights buzz on. The cool night air breezes it's way in over the water, bringing up the smell of the ocean over the pier. Eren Jaeger bundles deeper into his coat and scarf, hiding away from the cold.

            "I can't believe you made us come here, tonight," complains Eren, shoving the taller boy beside him with his shoulders. "It's so fucking cold."

            "Deal with it, asshole," exclaims Jean Kirschstein, "I paid for dinner."

            Erenita grunts, before shuffling closer towards Jean's body heat. "How are you so warm?"

            "Because I'm so goddamn _hot_ ," says a smug Kirschstein, jerk-smirk and all.

            An elbow juts into the smug boy's side. "Fuck off,"

            " _Never_ ," whispers Jean.

            It's been about eight months since they started officially dating. If you count their impromptu kiss on Eren's rooftop one night, then it's been exactly a year. At first, it was awkward. They didn't know how to approach each other at university, or what to say when they walked home together. Instead, they made out instead of talking like normal people.

            Eventually, Mikasa and Armin, the smart little pricks they are, realised that Eren had been complaining a whole lot _less_ about Jean during their meet ups. Usually, he'd been getting all pissy over Jean making up nicknames for Eren's order for a flat white. He'd complain about " _He's so fucking immature. Erenita? Erenio? What a fucking prick!_ " But when he's asked about why he doesn't just get coffee somewhere else, he'd mumble something about " _He makes a good coffee_ ". They'd thought they'd never hear the end of it. Until, one day, Eren didn't say a single word about Jean. Not a complaint, not even a damn scowl. And the funny thing was, Armin read the name on the coffee cup. _Eren_. Just plain, _Eren_.

            Soon enough, and what seemed like naturally, Jean sat with the trio on their exclusive meet ups. Eren and Jean would bicker over little things, like how Eren eats like a pig, or how Jean always buys the same food. But Armin and Mikasa could tell that something had happen between the two.

            "Are you and Jean dating?" asks Armin one day out of the blue, when Jean isn't there.

            Eren flusters and blushes and stammers and chokes, "W-what?!"

            Queen Mikasa decides to join in on the interrogation, "You two are not fighting as much. You don’t complain about him, or even talk about him at all. You seem more lively. And you're skin is glowing. Are you two fucking?"

             Eren stands up and leaves, skulling his coffee down and throwing the empty cup to ground. Armin and Mikasa watch Eren stomp off into the quadrangle, entering the infamous _Café Maria_ , where the hailed Jean Kirschstein works. The two watch Eren approach Jean, who is diligently steaming milk behind the coffee machine. Eren says something that makes Jean fluster and blush and stammer and choke. They see Jean bunch up into turtle, before he curtly nods. Eren returns the nod and walks out of the café, leaving behind a stunned Jean, and even more stunned customers. As they watch Eren walk back to their spot, they can't help but notice the slight jump in his walk.

            "We are dating," announces Eren, "I just asked him out."

            Armin jaw dropped and Mikasa was left still wondering whether they were fucking or not. But, it's safe to say, that after months of dancing around each other, late night make out sessions that turned into something way more, they finally became official lovers. Oh, how Eren hates the word _'lovers'_.

            So, Jean thought it would be cute to take Eren out for dinner on the auspicious day that they started dating. Well, not really. Jean forgot about their eight month anniversary, so instead, he promised he'd make it up with the anniversary of their first kiss. Ever the romantic lover. Gross. _Lover_.

            "Hey, asshole," says Eren, pointing towards the pier, "I want to a ride in those things."

            Jean sees boats lined up across the pier, each with their own warm yellow lantern attached at the end. Couples line up to get thirty minutes on the boat for a price. "Fuck, Eren. Fifty fucking bucks for a boat ride?"

            "Are you putting a price on your love for me?"

            Jean rolls his eyes. "Trust me, I wouldn't pay for your love. Ever."

            "You paid for dinner," says Eren, eyebrow raised up in smugness.

            "Whatever," mumbles Jean. "Fine, we'll have one ride."

            "You're the bomb,"

            "And you are totally the worst _lover_."

            "Eww, don’t. God. Why?," cringes the other boy. "Literally the worst word in existence. _Lovers_. _Lover. You are my lover_. Grot…"

            Eren continues to grumble to himself about how disgusting the word lover is, while he unconsciously links his arm into Jean's.

            "Uhh…"draws out Jean, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Eren?"

            The other boy, noticing how linked his arm is linking with Jean's in public. "Fuck! Sorry. My bad," he says, unlinking the link.

            Jean grunts some ridiculous noise. As far into the relationship as they are, public affection has still yet to be achieved.

            They wait in line, behind a very heterosexual couple. Of course, the couple whispers into each other's ears while taking odd glances behind them.

            "Do you have a problem?" barks Eren, blue-green eyes boring holes in their heads.

            "E-eren!" exclaims Jean in embarrassment. He can never control his _lover_.

            The couple quickly turn to the front in silence, and they never turn back.

            Once they get a boat, they fight over who has to row. They waste a precious five minutes at the pier, deciding on who will row, before the staff member urges them not to waste their time (and money). Eren gives in and begins to row, as Jean smugly lies down on the bottom of the boat and watches the stars pass by.

            "So, why is this river called the _Liffey_?" asks Eren.

            "Something about it meaning 'life' in some language," replies Jean.

            "Sounds stupid. Why would they ever put that name in a song?"

            Jean laughs, "It's Radiohead, they can do what they want."

            Eren eventually stops rowing once they are far from the pier and far from any other heterosexual couples that judge. He sets the paddles down and lies down next to Jean, cuddling up closer to him for warmth.

            " _That there/That's not me/I go where I please/I float down the Liffey,_ " sings Jean softly.

            Eren sinks deeper into Jean's warmth. "That's the song you sang when you first slept over at my house, isn't it?"

            Jean nods, "It's already been a year, huh? Time just doesn’t like to stay still."

            This year felt like a summer breeze for the two. From the day they started officially dating, they were together whenever they could be. Whenever Jean was studying for his business degree, Eren would be complaining about how some professor interpreted _Frankenstein_ completely wrong. Whenever Jean was at work, Eren would be sitting at a table close to the counter, reading his book or writing his reports. They became almost symbiotic.

            "You know," starts Eren, "Whenever I hear that song, I can't help but feel so nostalgic. Makes me feel like bundle of nostalgia. But I don’t know what of. I try to think hard about where the nostalgia comes from, but I just don’t know."

            "Does it just feel like it's always been there?"

            "Yeah!" agrees Eren, reaching his hand underneath Jean's coat and tracing the contours of his chest. "You feel it too?"

            "I guess. But whenever I hear that song, I'm reminded of you," replies Jean, snuggling closer to Eren. "I see you wearing that red scarf, you in a weird uniform, you lying on a pile of hay. I see versions of you in images I've never seen in real life. But I know that every version is always the same Eren that I've grown to hate."

            Eren pinches the skin on Jean's chest, earning a yelp from the poor boy. "Maybe they're me's from another world," he teases.

            Jean chortles. "Sure."

            The two lie with each other, staring up into the sky. Jean hums while Eren listens. Eren points out stars while Jean asks for the names of constellations.

            "I bought you something," says Jean, bringing out something from his pocket. "I-I uhh… saw it on the way here, and thought it would be nice…for…me…to…buy…for…you. You know?"

            "A ring?"

            In Jean's hand is a plain steel ring. "It's nothing special, but I thought it would be… you know…"

            "Nice," finishes Eren. He takes the ring from Jean's hand and places it on his ring finger. It glides on like a glove. "It _is_ nice." Jean blushes and Eren can almost feel the heat from Jean's body increase. "Did you buy one for yourself?"

            "W-what? Why would I do that?" exasperates Jean.

            "So we can match, duhh," says Eren like it's the most natural thing in the world. "Don't worry. Just take me to the place where you got it, and I'll buy the same one for you."

            Fluttery feelings and shit bubble in Jean's chest and he can't help but smile.

            "Sure thing."

            He would never say this aloud, because that what _lovers_ would do, but Jean is absolutely glad that Eren is right here with him. He couldn't imagine anyone else taking his place. Eren is Jean's constant to the world's variables, as Jean is to Eren.

            Jean holds Eren closer to his body, melting into his being.

            "Don't die on me,"

            "You know I won't."

            They lay together, floating down a river in a boat full of different skies. They watch the stars grow old and die and born anew. They trace their pasts and presents and futures in each constellation.

            Eren points at a star, at a singular coordinate in all of the universe. And they think to themselves that maybe they've seen that star before. Maybe in another time and space. In another world full of constants and variables.

**Author's Note:**

> Song: How to Disappear Completely.
> 
> Epilogue -->


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